


Storytime

by SpicedGold



Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Naruto
Genre: Family Fluff, Sarada has lots of questions about her family, The Talk, The Uchiha Massacre Talk, not that one, parenting is difficult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 00:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15763089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicedGold/pseuds/SpicedGold
Summary: It’s not often that Sakura curses the education system in Konoha, but she’s bloody cursing it now.





	Storytime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cherryberry12](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryberry12/gifts).



> For cherryberry12, in answer to 'Does Sarada know about her family history'

It had been a long day, and Sakura was tired. She wanted to sit down and relax for a few minutes, before thinking of anything more strenuous than making herself a cup of tea. She wanted to spend a few moments with her daughter, idly chatting about her day, enjoying the time spent together, because children grow too fast and Sarada looked more like her father every day, and Sakura wanted to savour the last few years of puppy fat and wide eyes and charming innocence.

Sarada, it seemed, had other ideas.

Sakura was blessedly sitting down already when Sarada marched purposefully into the lounge, a notebook held firmly to her chest. She peered at her mother over the rims of her glasses. “Hey, Mama, I have a few questions for school.”

“What is it, dear?” Sakura could feel herself melting into the couch. She wanted to pull Sarada down onto her lap. At seven years old, Sarada was Very Big and Independent and didn’t always appreciate being coddled.

“You’re an only child, right?”

“Yes.”

“Hm.” Sarada consulted her notebook, chewing absently on her bottom lip. She nodded to herself. “And Papa is too, right?”

And _that_ was the moment Sakura realised her evening of peace was not to be. It was the most loaded question her daughter could have asked, and Sakura wished Sarada had popped up with the much easier and far less . . . volatile . . . question of ‘where do babies come from?’

Sakura cleared her throat, stalling for time, and wondering what to say. It was not often that Sakura cursed the education system in Konoha, but she was cursing it now. “No, not really, he isn’t.”

Sarada blinked expectantly.

Sakura weighed her words carefully. She really, really wished Sasuke was here, because she wasn’t sure how much information on his family was safe to divulge. It was something they hadn’t discussed in depth before, what with the topic of Itachi being a sensitive one. (Her mind jumped back to her husband, a miserable huddle, who could break down into tears at the mention of his brother’s name. It used to terrify her, seeing him so vulnerable and emotionally flayed.)

“He had a brother.”

“Had?”

Part of Sakura wished Sarada wasn’t so observant and hadn’t picked up on her use of the past tense. She could have said ‘has’, and Sarada would likely have accepted that and moved on. After all, Shikadai has uncles he rarely sees. Chocho has family in Kumo that she sees even less frequently. It’s not a foreign concept to Sarada that family can be very far away, but still family. The moment for ‘has,’ unfortunately, has passed Sakura by, and she sat up a bit straighter on the couch. “His brother passed away before you were born. He was a shinobi as well.”

Hopefully that would placate Sarada enough to stop her questioning. It was a reasonable explanation. Sarada was aware that a war had been raging before her birth, and many shinobi had lost their lives. She spent a lot of time with Boruto, and knew about Uncle Neji.

Sarada took a moment to process the information. She nodded again, seemingly satisfied. Sakura breathed a sigh of relief as Sarada checked her notebook again -

“And what about Papa’s parents?”

-And promptly cursed Shino, and Iruka, and anyone who thought family trees were Fun Family Projects.

“They died a long time ago,” Sakura hedged. “Before I really knew your father.” She hoped that might make her immune to more questioning, if Sarada thought she wasn’t well educated on the topic.

“Hm,” Sarada frowned. “I was doing some research . . .”

_That_ was never a sentence that ended well. Damn Sasuke and his stupidly powerful genes that predisposed their daughter to wanting to learn all the damn time. Why couldn’t she be more like Boruto? Sakura was fairly certain that kid didn’t even know how to spell his last name.

“. . . And the old records mentioned that the Uchiha clan was really powerful and well known.”

So far so good; nothing inherently dramatic in that sentence. “Yes.”

“But if they were so strong, why are there none left, except for me and Papa?” Sarada blinked owlishly, before adding, “And you. Technically.”

For a moment, Sakura considered playing ignorant and farming the question off on someone else – Iruka perhaps, as punishment for this ‘family project’, or Kakashi, just because why not? Instead, she sighed, rubbing a hand across her forehead. “It’s kind of a long story. Can we save it for another day?”

“I need to know soon, because this project is due next week.”

Sakura missed the days when Sarada would have just agreed. Her quest for academic excellence was infuriating.

“We can talk about it tomorrow, maybe,” Sakura promised wearily. Hopefully by then she would have come up with a plan.

Or faked her own kidnapping.

 

In retrospect, Sarada wasn’t the only child with a strange family. Hers was just . . . _extra_ strange . . .

“What about Inojin?” Sakura asked Ino the next morning. The two had scheduled breakfast together before splitting up for work. “I know he’s got access to the full Yamanaka clan history, but what about Sai’s side of the family?”

Ino raised a delicate eyebrow. “We’ve been completely honest with him about that. He knows as much as we do.”

“Great,” Sakura grumbled.

She thought about the others in Sarada’s class. Naruto had no doubt spun dramatic tales about the Namikaze and Uzumaki clans, which Hinata had probably tempered closer to reality. But there were no secrets there; Naruto would have nothing to hide from his son. If anything, he would be eager to share his family. The Hyuuga clan were keen to share their history and encourage interest in the past traditions.

Shikadai also had everything under control. Shikamaru’s clan was old, and records went back generations. Temari was blasé about her own life, with nothing to hide. (Some details may have been glossed over, but no one had ever stopped Shikadai from phoning his uncles, and Gaara answered any call from Konoha without fail, especially if it was his nephew.)

Chouji had no dark family secrets, so Chocho could also do her research with no ramifications, and without finding any skeletons in the closet.

The Uchiha closet was a literal graveyard.

“How am I meant to tell Sarada about Sasuke’s clan?” Sakura mumbled, despairing how to broach the conversation.

“What have you told her so far?” Ino asked.

Sakura made a face. “That Itachi died before she was born. And so did her grandparents.”

“Ah, but she wants to know ‘how’, doesn’t she?” Ino nodded understandingly. “What’s your game plan?”

Plan A had been to send a message to Sasuke saying ‘ _Get your ass home YESTERDAY’_ , but she didn’t hold out much hope that it would be responded to. Plan B was to work late at the hospital so Sarada would be asleep when she returned home. She needed a Plan C.

“Panic, it would seem.”

“I’m sure you can explain everything in a manner that doesn’t make it sound that bad,” Ino said.

Sakura appreciated the vote of confidence. “Except it’s impossible to put a good spin on it. Even if you ignore the fact that Itachi killed his entire clan – I know there were reasons, but it doesn’t change the fact – there’s still the other fact – that Sasuke killed Itachi. His brother. Who he loves very much. That entire clan’s history is a mess,” Sakura finished with a despairing groan. “The Uchiha name has been at the forefront of every disaster in the last hundred years of history.”

“There, there.” Ino’s tone was placating, but her words sounded immensely patronizing.

Sakura decided not to dwell on it. “This is delicate. I need to plan this carefully. This isn’t a conversation you can just dive into.”

“Aha,” Ino’s eyes lit up. “You look like you have a plan.”

 

“Kakashi-sensei knows all about the Uchiha clan,” Sakura chirped, dropping Sarada onto a chair opposite her unsuspecting former sensei.

Kakashi blinked over his desk. “I what?”

“He’s an expert,” Sakura added. “He even had the Sharingan for a while, because his best friend – an Uchiha – gave it to him. And he taught your father a lot of what he knows. There is no one better to talk to about the clan than him.”

Sarada looked doubtful, eying Kakashi up and down. She seemed unimpressed by Kakashi’s apparent accolades with regard to the Uchiha clan. “So you knew Papa’s parents?”

“Yes,” Kakashi said cheerfully. “I spoke to them a few times regarding Itachi. I was also part of the team that did the clean up after the massacre.”

Sarada cocked her head to one side. “The . . . massacre . . .?”

“Yes, the entire Uchiha clan was wiped out, except for your father and his brother, Itachi. It left quite the mess. Blood everywhere, bodies all over, like some sort of warzone. And Sasuke was a wreck. That night shaped his entire life. He just wanted revenge, and was willing to go to any means necessary to get it. Turned out we were all wrong about Itachi, and that’s a story for another day, but the gist of it is that Sasuke killed Itachi to avenge the clan. Did I mention Itachi slaughtered the entire clan? In one night – which was a very impressive feat. Cataloguing bodies took days, and the gore was awful. Definitely one of the most gruesome missions I’ve been on. Churned my stomach, and I’ve seen a lot in my days.”

Sarada blinked at him. “I didn’t get most of that.”

The moment Sarada had uttered the word ‘massacre’, Sakura had intervened, clamping her hands over her child’s ears to block out Kakashi’s cheerful and completely tactless rant. Sarada just sat quietly, temporarily deafened, until Kakashi finished, and then pulled Sakura’s hands away from her ears. “Could you repeat it?”

“No, he can’t,” Sakura said, shooting Kakashi a glare. “He’s far too busy, we should leave.”

“You told me to tell her what happened,” Kakashi raised an eyebrow.

“She’s seven,” Sakura hissed. “You don’t talk to a seven-year-old like that! Sarada, come,” she tugged at her daughter’s wrist. “Let’s get ice cream.”

“Well how else would you say it?” Kakashi sounded genuinely puzzled. “Sakura? Sakura . . .?”

The sound of the door slamming heralded Sakura’s exit.

Sakura fired off another strongly worded note to her husband that evening. Not unsurprisingly, it went unanswered.

 

“What happened to Papa’s family?” Sarada asked firmly.

Naruto laughed nervously. “Ehehehe . . . uh . . . Why are you asking about that?”

“I need to know. It’s for my project.” Sarada blinked at him from behind her glasses, her expression sour and alarmingly Sasuke-esque. “I need to know what happened to the Uchiha clan.”

“Uh . . .” Naruto faltered, looking somewhat panicked. “See, the things is . . .” He was sweating bullets.

Sarada took note of this, and narrowed her eyes. “Well?” she asked snippily, clearly tired of everyone dancing around the subject. Hinata had been even less helpful, which was why Sarada had sought out Naruto, because he was her father’s best friend, and therefore should have been well versed in the subject.

“You should probably ask your mother,” Naruto hedged. “That seems like a better idea.”

“I’m asking you,” Sarada said firmly, arms crossed and tapping one foot impatiently.

“Ah, well, I, uh,” Naruto looked around furtively. “I have to go.” He made one hand sign before Sarada could protest, and was gone in a sudden puff of smoke.

“Wait!” she reached a hand out fruitlessly, but it did nothing more than disturb the lingering cloud. She huffed, nose crinkled in annoyance. So much for that. On to the next person.

 

“The Uchiha clan?” Shikamaru raised an eyebrow at Sarada as the child blocked him resolutely in the street. “Nope, I’m not going near that troublesome subject.”

Sarada scowled. It reminded Shikamaru of a miniature Sasuke. “Why not? You’re the Hokage’s aide, you must know something.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t know anything about it, I said I wasn’t going to say anything about it,” Shikamaru corrected.

“Why do you need to know?” Shikadai asked. He stayed in Shikamaru’s shadow, hands in pockets, frown in place.

“For school,” Sarada said. “You’re supposed to find out about your family as well.”

“Nothing weird in my family,” Shikadai muttered, with a slight toss of his head. “Everyone’s been perfectly normal.”

Shikamaru remained tactfully silent.

Sarada’s eyes narrowed. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“It’d be much too troublesome,” Shikamaru sighed. “Ask your mother about it.”

“I have,” Sarada pouted. “But no one wants to talk to me.”

 

“Aunt Ino?” Sarada scanned the flower shop for any other witnesses. They had it to themselves. “Do you know anything about Papa’s family?”

Ino looked up from arranging a vase of flowers. “Oh, Sarada, honey. Are you still asking about that?”

“I haven’t gotten an answer yet,” she admitted glumly. She looked at the flowers. “Do you know anything?”

“I do, but I don’t think I’m the right person to ask,” Ino said gently.

“Then who is?” Sarada was exasperated. The entire exercise was frustrating her. Kakashi had been the most forthcoming, but her mother had told her not to ask him about it again, for some reason. “Why can’t I just ask Papa? Why is he never home?”

Ino took a moment to regard the child. Her life was so complicated; she stood now with a frown on her face, serious and slightly worried. So different to Ino’s own child, who was never caught without a smile, who had a father on hand whenever he wanted.

“Tell you what,” she offered gently, kneeling down level with Sarada, “Why don’t you write him a message? We can send him a flower, and you can ask him anything you want.”

“Mama already tried,” Sarada replied dully. “He never writes back.”

“Maybe he will, if it’s from you.” Ino convinced her eventually, and they sat down together for Sarada to write a shaky letter. She picked a pretty purple flower from Ino’s vast selection.

“That’s called a bittersweet,” Ino explained.

Sarada turned the flower around in her hands. She sighed, her shoulders heaving with the motion. “It’s like my family, then.”

She handed the flower to Ino. Her face was set determinedly, ready to exhaust all options to get the answers she was looking for.

Ino dropped the letter off with Naruto to make sure it would reach Sasuke, and for three days Sarada waited at the post slot after school for a reply that never came.

 

Sakura was in bed, propped up on pillows, sipping tea and reading idly through a medical journal. It was late, and she was preparing to go to sleep. She looked up when little footsteps started down the hall.

Sarada appeared in the doorway, rubbing her eyes.

“Sweetheart? Why aren’t you asleep?” Sakura put her book aside.

Sarada came to the edge of Sakura’s bed. “Couldn’t sleep,” she mumbled. “I keep waking up.”

“Is everything alright?” Sakura helped Sarada climb into the bed next to her.

Sarada looked thoughtful. She reached a hand up to adjust her glasses before realising she wasn’t wearing them, then let her hand fall back down. She closed her hand into a fist.

“Mama?” Sarada curled up against Sakura’s side. “Why won’t anyone just tell me what happened to Papa’s family?”

Sakura sighed. “It’s a long story, and it’s hard to understand. It’s not easy to explain.”

“Is it bad?” Sarada looked at her mother, blinking big dark eyes.

“Yes, love, it’s pretty bad.” Sakura wrapped an arm around Sarada, holding her close. “A lot of things went wrong, and a lot of people were hurt.”

Sarada took a moment to think. “Like in the big war? We learnt about it in school.”

“Similar to that, yes.”

“But . . . why will people talk about the war, but not talk about Papa’s family? Isn’t it the same thing?”

Sakura shook her head. “It’s a bit more complicated. Why don’t you tell me what you know already?”

“We’re the Uchiha clan,” Sarada began thoughtfully. “And it used to be a big clan. All I know is one day there wasn’t a clan anymore. And now it’s just us. So . . . what happened to them all? Why are we the only ones left? And why does no one want to talk about it?”

“Sometimes things happen in the world that are not right, or don’t seem like they should happen. And sometimes good people have to make bad choices. You understand that, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Sarada fiddled with the blankets. She was fretful and unsettled, but Sakura had a feeling she wasn’t going to take no for an answer and allow the conversation to be put off any longer.

Sakura mentally prepared herself. “When your papa was just a tiny baby, something happened here in the Leaf village. It was attacked by a fox demon. Houses were destroyed, and the village was damaged. It was a huge tragedy, and a lot of good people lost their lives.”

Sarada’s frown deepened, but she seemed to be following so far.

“It was suspected that the Sharingan was being used to control the demon and cause the attack on the Leaf. Do you understand what that means?”

“Our clan was blamed?” Sarada looked up. “But that wouldn’t be true, would it? Because the Uchiha were part of the Leaf, so they wouldn’t attack it.”

“No, they wouldn’t. But you are right that they were blamed.” Sakura paused, trying to plan out the rest without too much detail. Some things were beyond Sarada’s comprehension. And some things sounded awful no matter how carefully you explained them. “A lot of people were suspicious of the Uchiha after that. And the Leaf treated them differently.”

“Badly?” Sarada blinked.

Sakura hesitated. ‘Yes’ would put the blame back onto the Leaf, and she didn’t want Sarada to be afraid for her own life and well-being. But ‘no’ made the Uchiha clan look as though they had no reason to ever retaliate against the village. “There were problems on both sides. The Leaf did treat them badly, and the Uchiha treated the Leaf badly as well. It isn’t something we are proud of, but that doesn’t change the fact that it was done. But all that was in the past, and you are perfectly safe, now, okay?”

Sarada pushed herself more firmly against Sakura’s side, seeking comfort. “But if the Uchiha didn’t do anything . . . why did the village blame them? That isn’t fair. And it isn’t right.”

And this was what Sakura had been afraid of, because Sarada was naturally defensive, and believed in a clear distinction between right and wrong. The world of a child is so black and white, and it was now, as Sakura tried to navigate the grey, that she realised what a task it would be. “No, it wasn’t right. But the war wasn’t right either. People have done a lot of things that weren’t right. People make mistakes. But that’s how we learn.”

That was a concept Sarada was familiar with, and she relaxed a fraction. “Okay,” she whispered, “But then where did the Uchiha go?”

Sakura took in a deep breath. She had to stay calm, and not let Sarada get riled up. “Because the Uchiha were feeling persecuted – picked on,” she clarified, when Sarada raised a confused expression.

Sarada nodded, and her lips moved in a silent repetition of the word ‘persecuted’. Sakura had no doubt she would look it up in the morning.

“. . . They wanted to do something to change the village.”

“That seems fair,” Sarada nodded. “Because everyone was unfair to them, so they wanted to change the village’s minds. It makes sense.”

This was harder than Sakura anticipated, and she had anticipated it being very hard. “Yes. They wanted something to change.” And now they were getting to the tricky parts, and Sakura fought hard to find the words that were the most neutral. “They wanted to change who was in power in the village. So that they could be included equally.”

“Like changing the Hokage? If someone was in charge who wasn’t mean to them, life would be easier, wouldn’t it? That sounds like a good idea.” Sarada was completely relaxed now, laying into Sakura’s side with a small smile on her face. Her sense of justice was so far fitting the story, and that seemed to calm her.

“It was a good idea,” Sakura said slowly. “But the way they wanted to do it wasn’t a good idea.”

“What do you mean? They were a part of the village. They could just talk about it to the Hokage. That’s fair, and that’s what Hokage-sama would do if it were us.”

Oh, if life were that simple. “They didn’t want to talk. They had already tried that, and it hadn’t changed anything. So the Uchiha clan wanted to do something else. They wanted to attack the council.”

Sarada stilled. Before she could complicate things with more questions, Sakura added on quickly.

“If they had – they didn’t, they were . . . well, they didn’t. But if they _had_ , then the village would have been vulnerable to attacks from other villages. Things back then were difficult, and the villages didn’t all get along like they do now. If they heard there was internal conflict, they would have attacked. And maybe the entire village would have been killed.”

There was a terse silence following, while Sarada turned that over in her head. Her body was rigid against Sakura. Her voice, when she spoke, was laced with conviction, “Then it was important that the Uchiha clan didn’t attack. Stopping them would save a lot of lives.”

She fidgeted, clearly unsettled by the conversation. “But you said they didn’t want to talk. How were they stopped, if they didn’t talk?”

Sakura held Sarada to her a bit more firmly, hoping to telegraph something into the child. Calmness, maybe. Understanding. “Sweetheart, this is why no one wanted to tell you. Because the story isn’t nice. And this is where good people had to do bad things.”

Sarada grew quiet again. Sakura could feel her little heartbeat speeding up. Anticipation, or fear; it could have been anything. She moved a hand to her face again to push back her glasses, as she often did when she wanted a small thing to control if she couldn’t fully control her own emotions. But her glasses weren’t there, and she faltered awkwardly. In a soft voice, she asked, “What happened?”

“It was decided,” Sakura began, wishing Sasuke was here. He would explain it better, surely. “That the clan was a threat to the village’s safety. And the council decided it would be best if the threat was gotten rid of. It wasn’t the best solution, and it wasn’t the only solution. But it was what happened, and we can’t change that now.”

Sakura could feel Sarada sitting anxiously against her body. The rapid-fire _thump, thump_ of her heart was unnerving. The thought of Sarada being scared was almost too much to bear. Her voice was a mere whisper, “Mama?”

“Yes, love?”

“Did . . . did the village hurt them? Did they . . . kill them? All?” There was a thread of fear through her voice. “Because they were like me?”

“You have nothing to be afraid of,” Sakura said firmly. “Darling, no one is going to hurt you, ever.”

“But they were killed, weren’t they? That’s what the books meant, when they said the clan was wiped out? It was the Leaf that killed . . .” she trailed off uncertainly. “. . . But they were part of the Leaf . . . it doesn’t sound right . . .”

“It wasn’t right,” Sakura agreed, closing her eyes briefly, trying to gather her composure, since Sarada’s was slipping away. “But the village was safe. And your father was safe. Papa was left alone.”

“Why didn’t the village say no?” Sarada asked, squirming a bit, distressed and unable to stay still. “They could have said no, if they were asked to kill people. The Uchiha were _their_ people, they shouldn’t . . . they shouldn’t . . .”

There was no way to make the Leaf sound innocent now. There was no way to explain what happened, what Itachi had gone through, without making the village look awful. Sakura wished she could make it sound better, but there was nothing good to add, or to change. All she could do was try to soften the revelation that Sarada’s village wasn’t always peaceful and fair. “You are probably right. The village wouldn’t attack their own kind. They didn’t have to, because one of the Uchiha did it for them.”

“Why?” Sarada’s head tipped up, expression distraught. “ _Why_? Why would someone hurt their own family?” Her eyes shined with tears as she attempted to comprehend the story. The mere thought of family attacking family was too much for her to grasp. She struggled with her own emotions, finding everything too much. She couldn’t find a ‘right’ and a ‘wrong’. She couldn’t find a ‘good side’ and a ‘bad side’, and it was distressing her. “Mama, this isn’t right, this isn’t the way families act-“

“Shh,” Sakura kept her held close. “I know. I said it was a hard story to understand.”

“I don’t like it. Why would someone do it?”

“Someone did it,” Sakura said gently, “To protect the rest of the village. And, most importantly, to protect your papa. Someone took all the blame, and the rest of the village never knew what happened. They didn’t know the Uchiha were a threat, and they didn’t know how close they had come to another war. And someone just wanted your papa to grow up safe, and that was the only way they knew how.”

“He would have been safe with his family,” Sarada squeaked, valiantly fighting back tears. “That’s what families are for.”

“Some of the reasons you won’t understand yet. It’s more complicated than you can understand. When you’re older, then your father will tell you everything. But remember, it’s all past now, and the village is a different place. And nothing like that will ever happen again.”

“No one has to hurt their families?” Sarada asked earnestly, sniffing loudly and blinking rapidly. “Who did it? The books said the clan was so strong. So how could they all be . . .” she stumbled over her words, “. . . all be killed?”

“A very strong and important shinobi did it,” Sakura stroked a hand through her daughter’s hair. “He said he would do it, and kill everyone, as long as Sasuke was kept safe. It was a very, very difficult thing to do.” She lowered her head to press a soft kiss to the top of Sarada’s head. “That was your uncle, who was a very, very good man.”

“Papa’s brother?” Sarada whispered. One tear escaped her eye, and she scrubbed it away quickly.

“Yes. He did everything to keep your papa safe.”

“Even . . . the whole clan . . . the whole family?” Another tear. Sarada squeezed her eyes closed. “If it was everyone . . . then also Papa’s parents . . .?” At that revelation, she seemed to shrink smaller, overwhelmed.

Sakura wiped the tear away. “Yes. To protect Sasuke, and to protect the village, and to stop a war. He fought the whole Uchiha clan.”

“Did he die?” Sarada asked seriously. She breathed carefully through her mouth. Her nose was tingly and stuffy. She didn’t know what to think. It seemed an impossible concept, taking on one’s own family. There was a strange numbness to the idea that she couldn’t quite grasp. It sounded unreal.

“No, he didn’t.”

“But you said he’s dead now. What happened to him?” She wiped at her nose, sniffing loudly, and blinking.

“He died later, once he knew Sasuke was safe and would be okay.”

“But you said he was so powerful. And he . . . the Uchiha clan was so strong. So if he was so strong that he could . . . that they were all . . .” she shook her head, struggling to verbalise the massacre. Her heart beating made her feel slightly sick, it was rapid and panicked. “If he was so strong, then why did he die?”

“That,” Sakura said, “I think we should talk about another day. It’s late, and you must be tired.”

As though reminded, Sarada suddenly yawned. She blinked sleepily. “But when will you tell me about Papa’s brother?” Maybe that would help her understand, maybe that would answer the questions brewing in her mind, maybe that would calm her down.

Sakura ran her fingers through Sarada’s hair again. “We can talk about it another time. Maybe, you can ask your father, when he comes home?”

“It will be nice to talk,” Sarada mused. She did not protest when Sakura eased her down to lie flat. Lying close to her mother, she felt safe, and some of her tension drained away. The invincibility of being under the blankets returned, although she was still unnerved. One more stray tear leaked from her eyes, and Sakura brushed it away without comment. “Mama?”

“Yes, love?”

“When is Papa coming home?”

“I wish I had an answer for you,” Sakura admitted. “But I don’t know. We just have to wait. Go to sleep, now.”

Sarada closed her eyes obediently, but opened them mere minutes later, frowning. “Mama? I’m scared.”

“Everything is going to be fine,” Sakura assured, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder, sheltering Sarada with her arm. The familiarity of the gesture calmed Sarada a fraction more. “Remember, the world is a different place now. You’re safe, okay? Nothing that happened in the past will happen again.”

Sarada pulled her eyes away, looking anywhere but at her mother. It wasn’t just the story bothering her. “But what if Papa never comes home?” A note of stress was present in her tone, emotions still rampant. Her fists closed in the blankets, trying to grasp something real.

“He will come home,” Sakura said, doing her best to soothe. “Because he loves us both very much, and he wants to come back to us.”

“How do you know?” Sarada insisted. Her eyes were heavy, and she blinked slowly, fighting back sleep to get an answer. “How do you know Papa loves us so much, if he’s never here?”

“Because he’s an Uchiha, just like you,” Sakura tapped her finger on Sarada’s nose. “And no one in the world falls in love harder than an Uchiha.”

 

-


End file.
